Avatar of Ryteb Pymeroce
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    1. Ryteb Pymeroce 10 yrs ago
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5 yrs ago
Current Back from the dead. Braaaaiiiiinnnsss
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7 yrs ago
I'm quitting Roleplayerguild due to personal issues. Apologies for inconvenience.

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Belphagor opened his eyes, and his aura burst forth. It was a crimson red, tinged with black. The world seemed to grow to a blinding halt within the room. The man seated on the throne was nothing special in terms of height, but was bulky with all manner of restraints attached to him. He looked into the intruders eyes and found something amusing in them, the man was linked to another.

He summoned one of the Warlocks, knowing that the timetrapped intruder was relaying everything that happened. Much to the shock of those there, he reached into his chest and pulled out a red coin with a dragon symbol.

"You are either brave or foolish to come here alone. You are fortunate I am in need of entertainment." As he spoke, a coinslot formed over the Nobody's heart, and he slotted in the coin. It began to convulse and form into a red humanoid dragon holding a spear. The eyes of the former Nobody glowed with malice.

"This minion contains one ninth of my power. Let's see how long you last alone."

As he said that, he pulled back his aura and the dragon began to assault the swordsman. The demonic being watched from his throne of bones as the animalistic creature charged at the opponent, hijacking the telepathic bond the man had to send a message.

"Bring the others here or I will kill him."

@Shoddy McCoy
[color=8dc73f][/color]Occupied Paris, Abandoned House

@ShadowVentus

"Oh right... you're human." Zane said, crushing one of the frost shards into a glass of water, "Sorry, I'm used to making potions for my partner. Fire Saints like the heat. Here, drink this, it should help your throat. Would offer you some honey, but it seems we're in a warzone."

Zane put the glass down, making sure to seem non-threatening... well, as much as you can while being clad in a suit of armour. Taking a seat in one of the non destroyed chairs, he began to explain.

"My name is Zane, I'm sort of an involuntary world hopper due to a bit of curse magic from a dark god. Jokes on him though, I ripped off his jaw. I've been stuck jumping between heartless invasions for nigh on six months now.
"I dropped in on your world to find one of the Black Coats attacking you. Those guys are freak'n evil. I think they wanted to turn you into a vessel of something or other, not sure of the details, but I took umbridge to that. I was forced to retreat by forcing the world hop early and dragging you with me. Sorry about that, the Inbetween is not a habitable place. Currently we're on a world about 500 years further ahead than yours... in Paris."
Secret Identity – Felix Vulpecula

Codename – Fire Fist

Age – 18

Appearance -



Powers – Limited use of 'magic', though a more accurate term might be energy manipulation. He has a core inside his body that draws in ambient energy and converts it into the type he can use. Has a slight regeneration power though it feeds off of his energy core.
A black belt in karate, as well as a student in several other schools of martial arts. Has combined his knowlege of karate, muai tai, and energy manipulation to form his own fighting style called Bakuken, which condenses the energy into coils around his legs and arms to increase the power of his punches and kicks. The coils create explosions when flexed, allowing him to potentially manoeuvre in mid air.
Is currently studying history at university.

Weaknesses – Bakuken is an unfinished style, and the explosions injure Felix each time they are used.
Requires periodic release of his energy else his body won't sleep.

Personality – Witty, Secretive, Playful, Chaotic
Experience – 17 Days
Day Job – Student

How did Arrowcaster find you? He found Felix testing out his Bakuken.

BRIEF Bio – Felix had been absorbing energy from a young age. Back then he was a much bigger handful as he lacked the self control learned from martial arts. His parents started him on karate at the age of six, sending him to a local dojo in the hopes of taming the overenergised kid. With an outlet for his vast energy, Felix flourished in the art, earning a black belt by the age of twelve. He also decided to research different styles of martial arts to make his own style. The first time he manifested his energy was at fifteen. A thug tried to mug him and pulled out a gun. Before the guy could shoot him, a burst of energy came from Felix, brutally burning the guy. It was horrific and enlightening for Felix, as it was another part of himself to master. So began his foray into creating the Bakuken, or Exploding Fist, style.

How will your character be different one year later? An increased mastery of the Bakuken means he would be able to control his explosions so they don't harm him, which would lead to him being able to fight in three dimensions.

Sample Post –
Breathe in. Breathe out. Focus the energy, feel it coil around your arms. Tighter, tighter still, keep going until you feel the energy become unstable. That's it, almost there. Good, now PUNCH!

The resulting explosion blew Felix off his feet, but that was secondary compared to the pain now shooting up from his arm. His hand was covered with burns and... yup, those were broken fingers. Pulling the fingers back into their correct positions, he wrapped up his hand in the bandages he had brought with him for this exact eventuality, wincing all the while. Once he had finished he looked over the warehouse he was using for practice. Hey, was that a support beam he hit... crap.

Grabbing the meagre possessions he brought with him, he ran as the creaking of a near toppling building rose until...

Snap.

The warehouse caved in on itself, nearly burying Felix along with it. Note to self, less coils in the future. Just as he thought things couldn't get any worse, Arrowcaster showed up.
"Uh... I can explain?" the youth said.

Fortunately, the hero wasn't going to arrest the youth, instead offering him a spot on their team. He accepted, mostly because he figured they had a decent med bay for any hiccups he had while refining his style.
Abandoned House, Occupied Paris

Zane had performed a rudimentary search of the area after making sure the girl was asleep. He was, not for the first time, cursing the fact that healing was counted in Earth Magic making it near impossible for him to use as a Thunder Elemental. Fortunately, synthesis was deeply tied to Lightning Magic. Should be relatively simple to whip up a healing elixir.

He had started collecting the gemstones that dropped from the Heartless as trinkets, not noticing their use until one world where he actually had some downtime. They seemed to be refined essence of elements, possibly the remains of a person's innate magic. Not really his problem to decypher, but it did mean he didn't have to use the more esoteric ingredients that made up potions back home.

Thinking of that, he pulled out a pan and created a ring of lightning to act as the flame. He started by adding two Blaze Shards, to counter the effects of the chill, followed by a Power Stone and a Thunder Shard, for energy, followed by a Serenity Gem to bind the ingredients. It also helped that the Serenity gemstones promoted healing effects. He did want to study the materials more in depth, but surface level would do for now.

With a wave of his hand, his intent clear, he spoke the magic words; "Jinga Magiiro!" completing the synthesis. The resulting mixture was similar in look at smell to coffee, albiet bright orange. Having a test of the potion, he regarded it as acceptable. (Don't ask how he drank it with the mask on, some questions are best left unknown.) Of course, he probably should have remembered he was a Heavenly Saint with a much stronger constitution than a human. The potion he poured down the girl's throat was literally boiling hot.

@ShadowVentus
Going to drop out of this, I lack the interest to continue this to a decent standard.
This thing still alive?
@ShadowVentus
Occupied Paris, Ongoing World War Two

The first thing Zane noticed was that they were in Paris. He had been to a fair few incarnations of the city of lights over the years, though none quite so... Nazi. Ah great, one of those damn past worlds. Great, as if being around Chrongel hadn't fucked up his internal calander enough.

The second thing was the girl in his arms. Let's see, mild sleeping charm in the process of wearing off, mild hypothermia, albeit that is expected after being on the recieving end of le Bâtard et il neige magique, as well as the Inbetween. Hmm... mild exhaustion from overextending her magic too... might be best to find a place to hole up. Choosing one of the more abandoned buildings in the city, he laid the girl down on a sofa that hadn't been entirely destroyed, and began to meditate.

The first thing he found was his connection to the Inbetween had snapped, probably due to him forcing a leap. It was clear it was repairing itself, but until it did he was stuck in Nazi France. Casting his mind out he was quickly overwhelmed by elemental forces. There was a powerful light to the west, and potent darkness in the north. But the worst was the east, it seemed like one of the Hades Gods had taken residence. In the heavens he noted the presence of a paradox, a fusion of Heavenly Saint and Infershia, yet it was muted somehow, like the core of his being was lost. And... fuck, a being of the Moon element. Well, it's not like he was going to meet him... where was that evil laughter coming from?
Aye. We have a real balanced party... of three melee types and one magic user.
Slow. They were always so slow.

It was ten hours ago that the dragon in human form was unleashed upon the Kremlin. That thrice damned fox and his bullshit plans, forcing him to go against the weaklings.

Thinking honestly, he was the only one apart from the damn cat who wouldn't kill them outright, accidentally or on purpose, but the cat had beef with the pervert. Still doesn't excuse the fox waking him up for mediocre opponents.

The Kremlin itself was still standing, but inside it was a scene from a horror movie. Blood and guts coated the walls as the guards and workers had been ripped apart with animalistic ferociousness. In what was once the throne room of the Tsars sat Belphagor (gods he hated that name) on a throne made from the torn out bones of his victims. It was impossible to see his face behind the bloodstained hood, and his body was covered in heavy metal restraints. In his hand he held the skull of the fool who thought he could command darkness, the flesh removed with vigor. Around him, Nobodies known as Warlocks worked to give the room a proper demonic atmosphere.

Standing from the chair, he threw the skull on the ground and crushed it.

"Minions of the Eternal Abyss, I offer you the blood, the bone, and the Heart of those who were arrogant enough to think they could control you. I ask that you aid me in the coming battle so that the Guardians of the Light may come into their own."

Darkness began to seep deeply into the citadel, morphing it into a bastion of darkness. Shadows poured forth from the Kremlin, intent on consuming the city itself. Belphagor returned to his throne and began to sleep, awaiting the arrival of a true challenge.
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